Playing Chicken

My next younger brother, Kurt, and I were almost always in competition with each other. We always considered it a challenge to try and one-up each other. Shamefully, I recall being more mean to him, or even taking advantage of him at times to suit my purposes. I will always regret those times, and hope he will have the heart to forgive me for being that way.

Still, one-upmanship was generally the norm with us. Along with that one-upmanship, we were constantly trying to see who was more daring. Usually I would win out - mainly because I was bigger and older. I thought I was always smarter, or wiser than Kurt as well. However, it just might be that he let me win out on so many of the competitions.

When we would try and build forts in the woods, we would start out on one together, then I would get too bossy or persnickety and he would get tired and go build his own. He generally finished ahead of me. I always went for fancy schmancy, and he went for practicality. I generally never finished mine.

One area where Kurt far excelled was when it came to firearms. I never really got into them too much, and he went full force into getting his own reloading equipment and making his own shells. He became quite expert at firearms.

Well, our quest for one-upmanship played into almost everything we did. We had a road that went west from our road for about three miles. The road began at the top of a fairly steep hill, then went down and up another hill about half the size of the first one. In our earliest years the road was made of gravel, which would wreak havoc on sled runners. Eventually, the township paved the road, and boy did it make for some fantastic sledding. The surface would ice over making it a perfect run for a runner sled. Car drivers travelling on that road didn't appreciate us too much, because they would have to slow down since we were often on the road. Come on, it was our private sledding hill! The drivers would sometimes lose too much momentum for getting up the big hill when they had to stop and wait for us to clear the road. Then they would have to back all the way up the smaller hill to get a good run at the large hill. Fortunately, there weren't too many people who used the road.

One day when I was about 10 or 12, I went out to the hill with Kurt. We decided
he would go down first on HIS sled and see how far he could go up the smaller hill without stopping. He went down in a flash, and in watching him I could see that he did not want to go up the smaller hill, because then it was a long walk back up the big hill. Somewhat reluctantly, though, Kurt walked up the smaller hill and got himself ready to go down and climb the big hill. I decided it would be a perfect opportunity to go down the large hill and see who could go faster.

Down I go, and picking up speed ever so quickly. I figured I was going about 30 mph, but in reality was probably doing about half that. By this time Kurt had started down the smaller hill. I kept a steady course, and steered straight into his path. So, here comes our oneupmanship...neither of us veered in either direction. By now we were steering straight for each other, and Kurt was now picking up speed. Closer and closer we are speeding towards each other, still neither of us veering off course.

Suddenly, when it felt like I was doing about 60 (but in reality probably only about 15-20) we collided. Since both of us were laying down head first on our sleds, where would our heads go but to slam into each other. Kabam!! There was nothing left but to pick up the pieces. I think Kurt got a bloody lip and some loose teeth out of the incident, and I just bumped my head. I think we were both totally amazed we weren't maimed with our skulls cracked wide open.

What this incident proved was how very determined each of us were at besting the other. I know I had no intention on steering out of the way. I figured that since he was the younger brother HE would be the one to veer out of the way. I guess, in the end, we were just too dumb to know how hard we would collide, and how much it would hurt. Neither of us won that day - or did we both win? At any rate, we're left with an interesting memory.